Entries tagged with llew

I talked to my counselor Rosa about Llew today. It took me a good twenty minutes of our hour together to get out the whole sad story of 2008, and how I believe he killed himself. I told her that, whilst I didn't grieve over his loss as I might would have had he not been a prat and went missing in 2005, I still felt a pang of guilt that I would not let him come back to the house after he'd exhausted all his avenues in Pennsylvania. Rosa gave me some perspective on the whole megillah, stressing that the guilt about this situation should go with Llew because what he did, if he did indeed commit suicide, was a spiteful and childish act, especially how he went about it (emailing me on Christmas Eve). She also gave me some exercises to use when my mind begins to wonder in those dark places regarding Llew's death. For the first time, I left our therapy session feeling better than when I walked in. I don't go back to see Rosa for a month. Progress!

I feel like I'm even more of a freak than usual. I see all the people on TV, not to mention the folks online, who are connected to another person, speaking of love and devotion. All of it seems alien to me. I appreciate friendship and feel a close kinship to a handful of people, but I have no interest in romance. I was heading in that direction when Llew was still with us. I didn't even want him touching me. When he left, I barely cried. I'm more remorseful now than I was when he went to Pennsylvania, because it bothers me that he died lonely and alone. Now, I have no interest whatsoever in getting involved romantically with another person. If it never happened again, it would be too soon. Is this part of my depression, or possibly a hormonal influence? I don't know and, frankly, I don't really care.

Two years ago this month (on the 14th), Llew made his choice to go to Pennsylvania to be with his daughter. I can understand familial connections up to a point, being a tad sociopathic, but I could not understand his desire to be with someone who had repeatedly shown a lack of loyalty and decency when it came to her father. I did not beg him to stay here. I offered the promise of a family unit, especially if he found a job and contributed to the household, as I was attempting to do. But his mind was made and off he drove, leaving behind his old computer, a bevy of books on our universe, and some sweat pants.

I got word of his gradual disintegration after Melanie kicked him out via his friend Dee, who was in contact with him. For a while he was committed to a mental institution because of his suicidal inclinations. After a few days, they released him to the street.

Being homeless was his greatest fear and he'd told me unequivocally that he would take his own life before he ended up homeless again. I told him that, if he went to Pennsylvania, he would end up homeless because his daughter is the Queen Bitch from Hell. He ignored me.

I found out a year later that Llew went through with his plan he emailed me on Christmas Eve of 2008. He killed himself, dying in the hospital on January 1, 2009.

There's not a day I don't think of Llew and nurse guilty thoughts that he finally left combined with agonising over not trying harder to save him. I don't know how he killed himself, but I can imagine that he found that wooden doorway to paradise, which is where he deserved to go, especially after the moments of heartache and heartbreak that made up the majority of his life. I just wish I didn't feel so haunted by him.

I got confirmation today of something I've known in my bones for a very long time. Llew is dead. He wrote me on the 23rd of December 2008, telling me that he was planning on killing himself. This had been the umpteenth letter like this I'd gotten from him and I'd actually contacted authorities in the town he was in in Pennsylvania, asking them to try to find him. I did everything I could short of letting him come back to my home, which was no longer an option for him. When he left to go to Pennsylvania in the Summer of 2008, I told him then that it was a permanent departure, there was no turning back. He chose to leave anyway.

Dear Tracy

I hope you didn't delete this as soon as you saw it. I wouldnt blame you if you did. I am out of options and money. I make no threat here, only state facts. Sorry I left you like everyone else. I am not the man you thought I was. I didn't know my limitations either. Sorry. You deserve so much better. It has turned into a disaster for me and I must pay the price. I have lost every friend I ever had including my daughter so I hope you go on as I had never existed. It's a new world ful of people and there is no room left for old fucks like me. Relaity sucks anyway and I am so damned tired of it all.

The state has given me $50 to "Return to SC." As If.......

there is no point so I won't even think of it. Thank you for caring too much . It is soooo your way. Bless ya, lassie. You will be the one I see when I close my eyes. There is no room in my heart for any other.

Bye,

Lew

And so this chapter is closed for good. I hope he has finally found the peace in death he never could find in life.

I just called the sheriff's department in Binghamton to give them all the information I know about Llew and the Bitch Daughter. They said they'd be on the lookout for him and to call them back in a couple of days to see if there are any leads.

After filling out way too many applications, taking a 10-key test that gave me one error our of 26k strokes, and driving not quite 150 miles, I'm cooked. Right now, I don't really care if I ever get another job. I'm ready to put a lily on my chest and start playing one of those cartoon harps.

After not hearing from Llew since he called to let me know he'd made it to Pennsylvania, I caved and dialed his number today. It turns out that the day after he arrived in Pennsylvania, he collapsed and was hurried to the hospital and he's been there ever since. According to him, they haven't figured out what's wrong with him yet, but they have done a bunch of tests, including a stress test. I told him I'd call him back over the weekend to see how he's doing and I stressed to him to make his family take care of him after he gets out of the hospital.

I'm so fearful for him. I just have the foreboding feeling that he's gonna end up very sick, homeless, and without anyone to be there for him. And there's nothing I can do. Nothing at all. It's a horrible feeling to love someone who makes all the wrong choices and places himself in harm's way. It's like he has a death wish or no capacity for self preservation.

Llew just called to let me know he made it safely to Pennsylvania. It's somewhere near Allentown, or so I understand. At this point, I don't much care. Just glad he's there safely and I hope his daughter doesn't screw him over like she's oh so prone to do. He may have been in a long line of people to abandon me, but no one deserves to be abused, especially by their one and only child.

I used to make these friends-only posts, but why bother?

This is your get-out-of-jail-free card. If don't want to read my rants and ravings, please defriend me now. I'm not in a very charitable mood at the mo. So there you have it.

They're always the ones to suffer, and it's so unfair. Chester and Riley, in particular, have wandered about the house all evening, trying to figure out why their friend Llew hasn't come home yet, why he wasn't around last night to snuggle them and spoil them rotten. I can forgive him most everything and understand why he's done what he felt he had to do, but this is unbearable, to see my babies bewildered and lost without their friend and co-conspirator.

And I'm just vindictive enough to wonder if Llew even misses the dogs at all, or if he has given them as much consideration as he gave me in the end. And I also wonder if Melanie will give him the same consideration as he gave the pups, the same she's always given him. That would be unsurprising and quite bloody typical.

He's packing to leave for Pennsylvania as I write this. I'll never see him again. I'll never trust again.

I'm tired of being abandoned. I'm happy on my own. Or at least I'm not unhappy on my own.

The worst part part is being a creature of habit. He's been here a year. I'm used to him I love him, but I'm used to him more. It will pain me to see the animals looking for someone they adore and wondering why he all of a sudden vanished with nary an explanation. I'm heartbroken.

I think I need xanax. Or sometime. All I want to do is sleep until it all goes away. Please just let it all go away.

I was off work today. Röchling decided to actually close on a horribleday, which is unlike them, according to their long-term employees. I would have preferred to have worked because I don't get paid horribledays. That said, this day is particularly horrible because I am not getting paid for having to choice to stay out of work. I would shake my fist at the Man, but I'm too disgusted to eek out the energy for such an act.

In better news, I have about 15 active Sea Monkeys that I can actually see. The largest one, my first hatched named Adama, has matured and his a truly horny male. Mature Sea Monkeys show their gender by sporting either horns on the head or egg sacs at the base of the tale. I can't wait until the other Sea Monkeys mature so they can start getting jiggy with each other. Sea Monkey sex is said to be a wonder to behold.

In even better news, the Aunt Tudi A/C Salvage Fund has been a success! I'm just waiting for the transfers to the bank to go through so I can go get her an air conditioner. She'll need at least a 10k btu. I'm looking through newspapers and Craigslist to see if something is decent to buy that way, but I'm thinking I'll go with Wal-Mart or Lowes so I'll get a warranty, just in case. The temperature tomorrow is supposed to be 88 with moderate humidity. This is the warmest day we've had so far, so I'm getting her replacement A/C just in time. Thank you to everyone who participated. Aunt Tudi is literally in awe of you and the power we can all wield when we work together. She's heard so many bad things about the Internet, so it's great to show her the wonderful things that can bloom from a much-maligned human medium. You're fantastic!

Speaking of good things on the Internet, I found a wonderful reference website called Index of HTML 4.01 Character Entity References. On the site, I discovered å, which allows me to write Sechlourendål correctly for the first time ever. Déaghydhen language utilises rings over the vowels. A ring over the e, like in Deaghydhe give the e a 'yeh' pronunciation. å is pronounced like a short e. I ring is like a short a. O ring is pronounced like ö. U ring is pronounced like 'yoo.' I wish that all the rings were available instead of just å. It would make being able to translate the true Déghyden language. I guess I just use acutes to replace the rings as needed.

The Llew situation hasn't changed since my previous post. I'm not speaking to him much, as I'm afraid my anger will burst through and leave me not-so-very-much neutral. He's shown signs of affection, wanting to be intimate and whatnot, but I'm not ready to go there. Not until I know what he's truly decided to do. He says he can't make a certain choice until he talks to Melanie. When that's gonna happen, I don't know. He sold his acoustic guitar and amp for $200 and gave me $60 of it. $80 has to go for his car insurance and the rest will get him through the week. He says he's not applying for work this week because he won't know about Pennsylvania for a while and he doesn't want to get a job that he's going to leave right after getting it. So much for financial help.

Gwen has invited me to her cookout for today. I'm thinking about going, even though I'd hate to leave Aunt Tudi alone. I may drop by just for a short time just to say hello, then zip back home and hang with the Toodles. Besides, there's an Enterprise marathon going on and I've become rather fond of that show over the course of 6 or so months. It's much better than Voyager, in my humble opinion.

To everyone who celebrates it, happy Memorial Day to you. To everyone who does not, happy Monday to you! I'm off to get a shower now, on account of I stank.

We got rain overnight and this morning. The wind blew and wet the porch thoroughly. Everything was wet and the rain continued in earnest when I got up and bade the dogs go outside for their morning constitutional. It only stands to reason that none of them want to go outside when it's that nasty, but they have to go. Using the bathroom is a necessity and it's imperative that the dogs do their business out of doors. I finally got them all to go, but Chester never left the porch. When he came back in, he proceeded to do something he's done since puppyhood, despite my efforts to steer him away from it; he pooped on the floor. We cleaned it up, like we always do, then gave Chester the hair eyeball. He already poops on the front porch when the grass is a little too wet from dew or it's a little too high to suit him. The dog is a collection of bad habits on four feet. It's like he thinks his cuteness automatically excuses anything untoward he might do. Yet another reason why I will never have another Yorkie if I have any say about it. It's Beagles for me, or no dogs at all.I had to run an errand over to Diane's. When I got in the car to leave, I spied an animal lying in front of the out building. It didn't move, so it had to be dead. I made a mental note to check it out when I got home from Diane's house. Upon returning, I walked out to the building to inspect the animal that was still there when I got home. It was a small opossum, young, just into adulthood, so it was probably Loki. One of his ears was torn pretty badly, but that was the only indication of injury I could see. I didn't turn him over to see if there were any wounds on his other side, though. It hurt my heart to see him so. I love the opossums who've taken up residence here and I don't want anything to bring them harm or woe, even though the other opossums are probably responsible for Loki's death; they do have a habit of brawling amongst themselves. I took a picture of Loki to document his passing.

Aggrieved, I made my way back to the house. On my way, I spied a snail shell, half buried in the wet earth. The spiral the shell spoke to me, reminding me of the natural cycles of life that, although they may seem cruel or unjust to us, create the fragile balance that allows all of us to exist.

The spiral shell lay approximately 50 yards away from Loki's body. Finding it heartened me in a very profound way. I usually take shells like this and keep them in my stone and shell back or the wooden candle holder that's full of shells and crystals that date back to the 70s. But I left this one alone. It's part of the Earth, literally, and something compelled me to leave it right where it belonged. So I did.My contorted filbert has gone berserk. When I bought the plant, it was pretty much a twisted stick with about 5 or 6 sickly leaves barely clinging to it. Its original price was $39.95, but I got it for $19.95 because the garden folks at Lowes believed it was pretty much done for. I brought it home and planted it at the corner of my front porch. The information card that came with the plant said that it would grow approximately 7 feet tall and 10 in diameter. As you can see in the picture, that's clearly not true of the tree I brought home. Obviously, the contorted filbert did not die.

Aunt Tudi complains about the contorted filbert every Summer. She can't stand the fact that it blocks her from seeing anything, it blocks air getting to the porch, and it harbours June bugs every year. They flock to the contorted filbert to engage in their annual mating ritual.

When the sap begins to settle in the tree, I should cut some of the more interesting younger branches and send them to anyone who may be interested in having an unusual ritual wand. Any fellow Witches who read this can let me know if you're interested. Hopefully by the time that season arrives, I'll be in better enough shape to be able to mail things to people.People are beginning to stress the benefits of buying and eating local foods. That's something that I've been wanting to do for a long time. Now that it's being shown on news channels how important it is to go local, Aunt Tudi is beginning to warm up to the idea. This will hopefully mean that we'll start buying more fruits and vegetables at the farmers market and getting more dairy products and perhaps even free range eggs from Kelsey's Dairy. I'm going to look into local meat markets as well. We have an abattoir in Duncan, but it's not very well known for its cleanliness. I'm certain there are others in the area. It's just a matter of doing some investigation. I'll ask around and see what I find. I believe we'll get off a lot cheaper by buying local and we'll be eating a lot healthier.

I really need to get my tiller to running. Llew doesn't seem to be very eager to help me in this matter. I think he believe he'll end up being the one to have to till up the earth so we can have a garden. It's a hell of a job, but something I don't mind doing. I'd rather till any day than mow grass. Maybe I should make that clear to him and then he'll be on board in the Revive the Tiller project. He's taking a nap right now but, when he wakes up, I'll bring up the tiller issue once again.

If I could get the garden spot tilled, we'd have an abundance of tomatoes, pepper, cantaloupes (or ass melon as I call them), potatoes, corn, and heaven knows what else. I'd be the gardening fool and our veggie issues would be solved for some time. If I know Aunt Tudi, they'd be solved well into the Winter, because she'd be processing and freezing a lot of what we couldn't currently eat. Given our country's piteous state, it's wise to grow as much food as you can, if you're able and you have any spot of earth at all. It may mean not starving when our society irrevocably collapses.Last night I was thinking about how a person's favourite cable channel tells a lot about them.

For instance, Aunt Janice's favourite channel is HGTV, Home and Garden Television. Aunt Tudi's is Discovery and the Weather Channel. Llew's is the History Channel. Mine is SciFi, but I'm also a dedicated follower of Discovery.

My theory is very undeveloped, so much so that I can't really verbalise it to my satisfaction. But I think I can tag people I meet with a cable channel after I get to know them a little. Is this stereotyping? Maybe, but stereotyping isn't always a bad thing as long as you don't stop with the initial stereotyping. Having a basic idea about someone, though, can be very useful and helpful as you get to know that person better and build on what you've already learnt.

I'll write more about this when and if I expand on my theory.I started this post out with words about Chester, so it's only fair that I end it with a picture of Chester. I think this is why we put up with his shenanigans: he exhibits so much love and trust around Aunt Tudi especially, then Llew, when he does something reprehensible, it can be easily overlooked.

Maybe the love shown in this photie is strong enough to hearten those who see it and need a bit of a boost in their lives.

Llew went to his family doctor today, who believes that this may be a case of Bell's Palsey rather than an actual stroke, since the effects are localised in his face and have effected his ability to speak in that it's like he's had a shot of Novocaine. He also changed his blood pressure meds since the meds Llew was on were apparently not working. We checked his blood pressure last night and it was 193/131. I tried to persuade him to go on to the E/R, since this was one of the danger signs noted on his hospital paperwork, but he flat refused, damned stubborn man. So.... I don't know what to think.....except I'm going to work on having him change doctors because the MRI indicated a clot in his brain and indications of TIAs. More grief. I hate that doctor of his.

Aunt Tudi has taken over household duties way too early. She just has to do it her way and insisted on wresting the laundry, dishes, vacuuming, and whatnot from my grip. I know I'm lacking in such things but damn! I feel like a total failure-slacker-loser. On the good side, she's doing fabulously with her hand. It has healed much quicker than her left hand. Almost immediately after her surgery, she had all the feeling back in her hand whereas, with her left hand, it took several months before the numbness went away. So I'm happy about that, but I'm really pissed that she's not following doctor's orders and letting me do what she usually does. I'd stop her but it's kinda hard to do if you're asleep in the middle of the night and she does a laundry or you're at work and she does whatever dishes were created at breakfast, or she vacuums the house. She's a sneaky old hag and I'm a total domestic failure.

This is Mike's unpaid week off at work. As a reminder, Mike is my route driver, the dude who delivers all the goodies I need on a daily basis at Rochling. The dude, David, who's covering for him knew nothing about Mike's route, so I figured he'd be late today. Mike usually arrives between 9 and 9:30 in the morning. David got there a little after 11, after the lunch rush (between 11 and 1) had started. So I had to try to fill the drink machines while people were trying to buy drinks. That's a tad difficult to do. It's not his fault. He was just thrown into the situation, which is no good considering Mike's route being very big and very difficult. But it threw me majorly late in what I do in the last half of the day and I expect tomorrow to be just as bad because David is off tomorrow and another guy who doesn't know diddly about Mike's route will be driving it. Whee!

My day didn't stop at 2. After 2, I was obligated to go get Fat Boy Boo Boo for his Spring shave-down. I picked him up at 2:30 and had him finished by 3:30. Easy-peasy except for one thing: I almost cut a skin growth right off the poor doggie. Boo Boo is a wire-hair Parson Russell Terrier, so his fur is medium length and very wiry. When I went to shave his tail down, it encountered what appeared to be a mat right at the end of it. I tried to shave it again, and Boo Boo was all like "OH HELL NO!" so I backed off. I took my shears and began to trim the area one teeny bit at a time. Then I saw it - it was a growth about a quarter inch long (a little over 6 millimeters for you metrically-inclined folk), just dangling obscenely off the end of Boo Boo's tail. So I had to shave his tail down, but trim his growth. His tail looked like crap as a result. Otherwise, the dog looked faboo, if I do say so myself, and Gwen was thrilled with the results of his Springtime shave.

Once I got home at around 4:30 from taking Boo Boo home, I set to clipping our dogs' nails since they could out tap-dance Mr. Bojangles in the state they were in. I'm so ashamed. I clipped all their nails, cleaned up the bathroom from Boo Boo's bath, cleaned my equipment and the table, put everything away, and took one breath. After the one breath, I went outside to feed the Backyard Pride and the Front Porch Pride and give them fresh water. The bowls of water were nasty, thanks to the almost three days of rain we had, so I cleaned out both bowls and gave them fresh water, then poured out the food to the delight of all the cats. Whilst outside, I got swarmed by mosquitoes and got bitten several times, but the worst bite was on the side of my index finger. That's an extremely uncomfortable spot to obtain a bug bite. I began to wibble. It was a little after 5 o'clock and I'd been awake and non-stop for twelve hours. Wibbling, I finished the feeding of the Prides and brought my achy arse indoors.

After all this, I began to ponder my mental state over the past few weeks. Many people have asked me how I was and where my mind was, as they knew I'd been under a lot of pressure. I could never adequately answer them until about an hour and a half ago. If you could crawl into my head and peer inside my mind, this is what you'd see.

I don't anything else needs to be said after that. It pretty much speaks for itself. I'll let it speak for me now.

After I got off work, Aunt Tudi, Llew, and I hauled arse up the mountain to Asheville to meet up with falkenna, her sister janalyson, her boyfriend paulpearson23, and Jan's daughter Jennifer. We met at Malaprops and moseyed our way around downtown Asheville for a while before landing at Jack o'the Wood. The last time I was at Jack o'the Wood was when I was still managing Kilmoulis and hopelessly devoted to The Harpist. That was ten years ago, but it was enough to worm its way into The Chalice.

Delightfully so, the event was one of good times, good friends, good fellowship, good food, and good spirits (more than one). I really like Paul and I believe that falkenna has chosen wisely in Man Servants male companions. It was great to see janalyson and her daughter again. I don't know Jan very well, but I'm amazed at how easily we get on. Our conversation is never lacking. I believe that Aunt Tudi had a blast of a time and that Llew was glad to have finally gotten to meet some of my dearest friends.

I took a bunch of pictures and so did Paul. I promised falkenna and janalyson that they could see the photies and approve them before I posted any, though, so visuals of our fun day will have to wait on them. Le sigh.

I'm a very sleepy soul. But a satisfied one as well. It's good to be with friends, especially after trying days with the promise of more to come.

After spending an absolutely deeeeeeelightful day on the road with both Aunt Tudi and Llew, the first thing I did when I got them home was blow up my Whomp It and apply it to their brain pans. I plan on doing this repeatedly until it does one of two things: makes me feel better or kills the two of them. My bets are currently on the latter, despite the Whomp It being a bit a blow-up plastic, like a beach ball, but different.

Then again, I do have a third option that I only just considered: I could whomp myself in the head repeatedly until I either feel better or die, which would also make me feel loads and gobs better than just feeling merely better better.

Llew, Aunt Tudi, and I have all three been like angry rats gnawing on the same rope, but for different reasons. Aunt Tudi's reason is that she's in the full throes of hand surgery recovery and it hurts like all Sith Hell. Llew's reason is that he's had a stroke and he's in the full throes of depression and dealing with the inability to do things the way he could just last week. My reason is Aunt Tudi and Llew. I want to knock their heads together like coconuts. Oh hell.....there goes popfiend's heart.

The stress of everything that's been going on the past week has gotten to us, I believe. But I feel guilty for feeling all snerky about it because I'm not going through near what Aunt Tudi and Llew are. All I'm doing is putting up with their crap moods and trying my level best to prevent an altercation between the two of them. 'Cos when I'm in the middle between Aunt Tudi and Llew and really in the middle, like miserably so. Honestly, I'm sick of it.

Aaaaaaand, guess who's reared her ugly blonde head? Yep. Bitch Daughter. And it's my fault. Dee stressed the need for BD to know the state of her father's health. Once Llew agreed to let either Dee or myself contact BD, I volunteered for the ugly deed. On Friday I called and left her a message, then I emailed her informing her that it would be in her best interest to respond. Within an hour, Bitch Daughter called. I told her that Llew had had a stroke and gave her the information that I have. She then started tossing questions and demands my way and, this time goddammit, I wasn't having it. I told her to back off and let me tell her what I knew and, then, if she wanted to talk to her dad, she was more than welcome to do so. She asked if he'd been staying with me and I was like "well, yeah, he lost his entire family and had nowhere to go. Where did you think he'd end up?" She had no answer for that. So they talked and, a few hours later, Destiny called and talked to her "pappy." It was a decent reunion. BD invited Llew to come visit. Visit. After a stroke. This, coming from someone who promised to take care of him if he paid for her schooling. He paid for everything and he gets an invitation to visit. And has she called back? No. I hate her. And Llew is an idiot. After it all, he thanked me for helping to reunite him with his "babies." I don't hate Llew, but I think he's a total dunderhead for saying this and, especially, thinking it.

The other day Diane was telling me about how her evil husband Keith gave away her Thriller album back in the day because he didn't like Michael Jackson. What the fuck? I mean, what gives him the right to do such a thing? He also did away with her copy of Ice Cream Castles by Morris Day & the Time. So, I got to thinking about it and decided to make Diane the first of three or four funky/groovy CDs. I gave it to her today. Here's what's on it:

The Girl Is Mine

Michael Jackson & Paul McCartney

Black Or White

Michael Jackson

Man In The Mirror

Michael Jackson

Bad

Michael Jackson

Thriller (Single Edit)

Michael Jackson

P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)

Michael Jackson

Human Nature (7" Edit)

Michael Jackson

Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'

Michael Jackson

Beat It

Michael Jackson

Billie Jean

Michael Jackson

Off The Wall

Michael Jackson

Rock With You

Michael Jackson

Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough

Michael Jackson

Shake Your Body (Down To The Ground) (Single Edit)

Michael Jackson

The Bird

Morris Day and the Time

Jungle Love

Morris Day and the Time

Diane's only dilemma with this CD is that she can't play it in the car because her car doesn't have a CD player. I told her, "Well, you'll just have to play it at home, won't you? Loud. In front of Keith. And you can tell him that, if he gets rid of it, your friend can always burn you another CD and another one after that and still another one if he attempts to rid himself of something that doesn't fucking belong to him." She thought that was a brilliant idea and, to be honest, I did too. I'm just aching for an altercation. I'm cruisin' for a bruisin'. And I figure Michael Jackson will get me there quicker than most other folks, things, or situations. So tell me who's bad?

Chris Hansen. He has a new show out exposing dodgy insurance and investment salesmen who target senior citizens. Now, I'm not by nature a criminal, pervert, or unseemly individual; however, if I were in a room and Chris Hansen walked in, saying "I'm Chris Hansen with Dateline NBC," I'd probably have a heart attack and die right there, wondering what it was I did so wrong to merit a visit from the likes of Mr. Hansen. Yeah, what he does is a good thing, but I think he's established for himself a very scary reputation that terrifies people who haven't even diddled, robbed, or otherwise humiliated their fellow human. So I'm wondering if he can do any good at all now, considering his position. The man's presence could make Jesus Christ look questionable, which makes me ponder guilty people and their level thereof. How can we gauge anyone or any situation by Chris Hansen now? Doesn't his mere presence scream "GUILTY AS HELL!" without need for judge, jury, or any of those other pesky judicial procedures? Yeah. If Chris Hansen ever walks into a room and introduces himself to me, if I don't die of fright right there, just kill me 'cos my life will be over.

And this concludes my rant for the day (and possibly for many days), because Aunt Tudi is bitching at me again and I can't concentrate for having fantasies of chopping her up into a delightful meat pie and serving her to my closest friends with some fava beans and a nice chianti. ::slurpslurpslurp::

I meant to write this a few days ago but, instead, I passed flat out on the love seat for about five hours. After taking care of Aunt Tudi's minimal needs, I shambled off to bed like the best Zombie George Romero had ever encountered in his long Zombie career. So I'm writing it today with some addenda now that so many days have passed.

Before I begin, I just wanted to thank everyone who sent Llew cards. They finally arrived on Tuesday morning and he was a smiling goofball. So....thanks. Also, thanks for the virtual gifts. I've never had a punching bag before. I needed one. Badly.

And, in closing, speaking of the weakest link, here's a photo of one of my left knee x-rays. According to Dr. Keith, whom I'm went to see on Thursday, there's no waiting for my 50-year-birthday to get that knee replacement. According to him, I'll need to get the replacement as soon as my insurance kicks in next year, if I can wait that long. He said all this in doctor-speak instead of wanting to say it it the way he really wanted to: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

**As brujah pokes at me from beyond the virtual grave for me to just get on with it for Chrissakes!

Thanks to everyone who replied to my Llew post from last night. You're all deeply appreciated and very loved by this daft old Sith.

At 11 this morning, Aunt Tudi, Diane, perhaps Stephanie, and I are driving over to Great Escape so Diane can get Llew's car and drive it back home. It's a straight drive vehicle and I don't know how to drive straight drive. I'm trotting into the Great Escape to talk to Ed. Hopefully he's there today. That's Llew's boss and I need to tell him what's going on with Llew. From all I've heard, Ed is very understanding and won't have a problem holding on to Llew's job for him. After we get the car home, we're going to visit Llew for a couple of hours and hopefully talk to a doctor who will tell me that Llew will have a full recovery by Wednesday of next week.

Once we leave the hospital, we're going to IHOP. I want to buy Aunt Tudi a good meal before her surgery tomorrow and IHOP is her favourite restaurant because of their coffee. I know what I'm having ~ what I always have: blueberry blintzes. These things are so good, they make me want to slap my momma. I may have to fly out to San Diego to do just that. Besides, I miss my momma, so this would be a good excuse.

We need to make a trip to Wal-Mart and stock up on some supplies like....toilet paper, peppermint tea, and soup. ~~among other things~~ Not sure if Diane or Steph will want to come along with us for this. Hell, I don't want to go to Wal-Mart either. I hate Wal-Mart. So I'm going to try to hustle Aunt Tudi through that hell store and get out quick (yes, I know it's quickly, but quick sound better here).

I'm not sure if we'll go back this evening to see Llew again. He may be too busy with all the therapy and, after that, he'll be too tired to deal with my silly ass hovering over him like a mother hen. We'll see. I'll ask him if he wants company and just go from there.

After we get home for good, Aunt Tudi and I are going to be watching a film she'll be taping at 10:05: M. If you ask me, you can't end what will probably be a crap day any more perfectly without a creepy Peter Lorre flick. John K would agree with me

It's now time to jump in the shower on account of I'm a damned dirty ape (RIP Chuck).

Llew had a stroke this morning. He's in room 822 at Spartanburg Regional Hospital awaiting an MRI and getting some sleep in preparation for tomorrow's speech therapy and occupational therapy. The stroke was very mild and you really can't tell that he's had a stroke at all unless you hear him try to talk: it's a slurred mumble that's absolutely incoherent. All day I made him repeat himself until he could be understood. It pissed him off, but it gave him good practice and helped to develop his speaking ability. I told him that he'd probably end up hating me for my constant harassment, but he'll end up appreciating my efforts. When Llew's nurse came in and explained what the speech therapist would be doing and gave him an example of the therapy, Llew gave me the hairy eyeball because that's exactly what I'd been doing to him all day long.

I have the feeling that Llew's prognosis will be carrying maximum positivity and minimum distress. The distress will be mine. I'm not a caregiver, but here I am preparing to help Aunt Tudi with her hand surgery on Monday and Llew to recover from his stroke which was caused by the high blood pressure that he failed to treat. AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH! I need a new life, one that insures my loved ones glow with unending health and utter joy. That would be dandy fer shure.

Anyway, if you want to send Llew a cheer card (or anything at all), and I really hope that you would, considering he has few friends and his family sucks big hairy rhino balls, you can go here and be a lovely human being.

You must use his entire name and room number in order to properly send the e-card. His name is Lewis Boyd and he's in room number 822. So, as Ben Stiller says as one of his scary characters in Starsky and Hutch, DO IT. And do it now. Dammit.

As for me, I'm horrified by the entire situation and I want to flatten myself out and crawl under the rug in the living room and remain there until I'm stomped on until I'm spread out like a crepe....or a creep....you decide. Oh Goddess! I'm so tired and distressed and sad, I can't even sufficiently express myself. What else could possibly happen this year? Maybe I shouldn't even ask such a question. I'm just setting myself up. Oy.

**erm.....I actually started this post yesterday, but it took me a thousand years to write it. Now, today is yesterday because I'm stupid.

Today is Llew's birthday. He turned 56 today. To celebrate, I took him to the store and bought him some pants because he doesn't fit into any of his pants since we've been feeding him Southern-style. Aunt Tudi got him a new pair of shoes. Now he'll be all spiff for his new job at Great Escape. All he needs to do is get a hair cut. His hair is naturally curly and, when it gets to a certain length, it curls outward on both sides. Right now, Llew has natural clown hair and, while I find him adorable no matter what, customers at Great Escape may be turned off by his scruffy appearance. So. A haircut is in order.

Diane went with us. After we left the store, we headed over to Golden Corral for a birthday supper. Aunt Tudi, Llew, and Diane all gorged themselves on the the buffet food. I had one plate of food, which included a medium rare Black Angus steak, grilled to perfection. It was glorious. It seems, these days, I can't get enough partially-cooked meat. Something has got to give before I end up in a pasture, stalking a distressed cow with a fork and knife. It's that bad. When we left Golden Corral, the three of them waddled out to the car, complaining of being miserable. I hauled their bloated butts home, whereupon Aunt Tudi got the little TV/VCR combo ready to take over to Diane's.

We took Diane home along with the TV. Llew hooked it up and attached the antenna and I started the auto-channel finder and the auto-clock. Once that was done, we checked the channels and made sure everything was in order. Diane was out of her head with glee that the TV could pick up ABC. She was close to hopping up and down as she blurted out "LOST!" Hugs were handed out all around and Llew, Aunt Tudi, and I took out leave.

We got home a little before 9 PM and are now watching Law & Order. It thrills me no end that Linus Roache is one of the stars of Law & Order now. I fell in love with him when he played the Purifier in The Chronicles of Riddick. I wanted to lick his bony headdress and begged to be purified. But that's another story.

Chester just jumped up on Llew and began to trample his belly. Llew removed him quickly, groaning "Please get off my belly, Chester... good boy." Heheheheheheheh. Birthday boy has gastric issues. My work here is done.

I got to sleep in this morning, but I woke up at 10 am with my head exploding. Something told me to call in my migraine medicine the night before and I'm forever grateful to that something. I pulled myself out of bed and hauled ass to the pharmacy to pick up my Relpax. I took a pill on my way to the post office, checked the box, then came home. My medicine usually doesn't knock me out, but it did this time. Maybe it's because of the nature of the headache, I don't know. I was unconscious off and on for the majority of the day. The occasional boom of thunder or Chester opting to trample my prone body would wake me up for a little while, then I'd be right out again. I woke up and was feeling pretty much back to normal by 5 PM.

At 6:30 Llew called me. He was on the side of I-85 at exit 58, out of gas. The gas gauge on his car doesn't work, so he had no idea he was so low on the juice, Bruce. I zipped over to the gas station and got a gallon, then went in search of my significant other. He was parked underneath the precipipause*, awaiting his Lady in Plaid Armour. After he poured in the gas and started the car, we headed for home and a hot bowl of tomato soup, courtesy of Aunt Tudi.

clumsycake called a few minutes ago. She's on her way over to return Aunt Tudi's Judge Judy DVD. More than likely she'll stick around for a while to visit, hobnob, and be generally talkative and sociable. If Ashley is with her, she probably won't stay for very long.** I guess we'll know which way the wind blows once the woman herself arrives. After she leaves, I may crawl off to bed. That headache and the subsequent treatment seems to have sucked the life force right out of me. I feel like I could sleep for days without end. Migraines are horrid, just horrid.

*Precipipause [sniglet]: an overpass that, upon driving under it, causes a brief pause in precipitation when it's raining.**Ashley isn't with her, but she can't stay anyway. She has family members waiting for her to bring them food, so off clumsycake scurries to purchase sustenance from Burger King. I wish I had me a Whopper right now.

I feel like I'm trudging through Dies the Fire. There are some books where it will take me 50-100 pages before I'll really get into it, because I'm missing the book I just finish and, like an immature git, taking it out on the new book I'm reading. I'm on page 180 of Dies the Fire and I'm still having issues getting into it. Honestly, I feel like SM Stirling is beating me over the head with the whole Wiccan thing. I've been a round a lot of Wiccans, Pagans, and Witches over the years and none but the fluffiest of bunnies talk like Juniper and her Clan MacKenzie. Once those bunnies either grow up within the Craft or grow away from the Craft, they stop talking like that. I'm catching myself talking to the book, saying things like "All right, already, we get the message that Junie is a Wiccan. And you're using the phrase 'blessed be' wrong, so shut your literary pie-hole, can'tcha?"

Yeah, I'm a little disappointed. I was hoping for something a bit more substantial, what with this being an Alpaca Liptic story, and I'm actually going to see the book through to the end, hoping that the vision of a world irrevocably Changed will be redeemed to me. But I doubt I'll seek out the sequels unless something drastic changes my mind.

By contrast, Llew is really enjoying the book. He started it last weekend and is devouring the pages. I'm only ahead of him by about ten pages and that's only because I've been taking the book to work with me and reading during the day. I guess this is the perfect example of how one man's trash is another man's treasure, although I wouldn't necessarily call Dies the Fire trash. I sure as hell wouldn't call it treasure either.

I got an email from Jesus. The subject line says "Monday will be amazing." If Jesus says this, then it must be so. I'm looking forward to Monday because Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.

It snowed this morning. At first I thought my car was being swarmed by bugs because we're inundated with bugs in February here in the Armpit of Hell. But then the bugs got bigger and fluffier, and there were many more of them than before. By the time I got to work, it was snowing pretty heavily. Pretty it was. And I took a couple of pictures, just to prove that it actually did snow for about 15 minutes in Upstate South Carolina.

This afternoon, I took Llew over to the library to check out a repair book for his car. While he was there, he got a library card. Aunt Tudi went with us because she needed to go to the store. She checked out a couple of movies at the library: Hotel Rwanda and Black Dahlia. She was well-pleased when I informed her that Josh Hartnett was in Black Dahlia. She thinks he's very cute....better looking than Danny Huston. Aunt Tudi has taste for shite when it comes to men. Just sayin'.

When we left the library, I had to take a picture of their current display. It's of outhouses. Only in the South.

My knee is singing a tune again, one that is off-key, very loud, and incredibly obnoxious. I called Dr. Jowarski's office and got an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. They're gonna work with me on the charges since I don't have insurance. The office visit is pretty spendy and I know that the doctor will want to give me cortisone injection, so that will be even more. I hate my left knee as much as it apparently hates me. What's worse is that we can't get away from each other, at least not until I turn 50 and have insurance to where I can get a replacement. I want the surgeon to put my knee in a jar so that I can put it on a shelf and whisper "fuck you" to it as I trot by with my new bionic knee. It's a dream of mine. You can't take away a woman's dreams, especially when she has a rebellious and inflammatory joint.

Despite my pre-owned knee problems, I rest happily in the knowledge that Monday will be amazing.

Last night was pretty good. The new dancers starring in Lord of the Dance are quite exceptional, particularly the man who plays Don Dorcha. Why am I always drawn to the bad guys? Aunt Tudi enjoyed the show immensely, which is why I took her to see it. She absolutely adores the Irish step dancing and has been in love with Lord of the Dance and Riverdance since their inception. She told me that last night was one of the best nights of her life. Since she turns 64 this year, that's a pretty momentous thing to day, and it makes me very happy. There were a couple of moments during the show when the old pain and regret overwhelmed me, but I weathered it much better than I expected to, and I believe that I might be able to listen to and enjoy Ronan Hardiman's score once again without much ado. Llew seemed quite pleased with the show too, speaking with an Irish brogue all the way home. He's such a pushover sometimes. I guess that's one of the reasons why I love him.

At the moment, I'm enjoying the great wonderment of 30 Days of Night. While I was at work, Llew trotted off to Tar-zhay (that's Target to you non-Fake French Pipples) and bought me a widescreen copy on DVD. I'd almost forgotten how sexy hair clip teeth on a drop dead gorgeous man can be. Oh, Danny, you can rip out my goozle any ole time you wanna, babycakes! Hubba hubba waka waka!

Speaking of being at work, there was an interesting choice of cuisine by one of the Rochling employees today. When I saw it, I thought it was some kind of weird piece of floppy chicken between two pieces of sandwich bread. I asked the man, "What is that you're eating?" He replied with, "A pizza sandwich. If your pizza is really hot, the bread takes away the heat and you can eat it without being burned." So yeah, it was a piece of pizza between two pieces of bread. Bread on bread. ::boggle:: I hope the man has some Doxidan, gentle Doxidan handy, 'cos I have a feeling he may need it after his pizza sammich.

Tonight's the night Aunt Tudi, Llew, and I are going to see Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance or, as I like to call it, Hoofin' It. Llew is kind of *meh* about it, but Aunt Tudi is beside herself with outright joy. Since this is her birthday gift, I'm very happy she's so out of her head about it. I get the feeling that she may not have too many birthdays left, so I want to make each birthday something special.

This evening will be very difficult for me. The music for Lord of the Dance is very heavily marked with memories of Alban Hefin 1997. Ronan Hardiman scored a moment in my life that was incredibly magickal and filled with the promise of a Bealtainne kiss. It was his music that carried me out into the endless farm fields and meadows around Fountain Inn, where I followed the Harpist. The music of Lord of the Dance rang in my mind's ears while I was kissed under the Summer Moon.

There was so much promise in that lingering kiss and the ones that followed, all to the lovely strains of "Stolen Kiss." "Celtic Dream" ribboned it's way through my world, as my newly technicolour vision continued to light my path on this beautiful night, a song that began on Bealtainne that grew only more beautiful and more vivid on this beloved Alban Hefin. My Harpist was kissing me. He, who made such painfully lovely Celtic music himself, wrapped his massive arms around me and became my Lord of the Dance, setting me upon a path that would lead me eventually to a singular sorrow.

A year later, in 1998, I couldn't hear this music without bursting into tears. Actually, I had trouble hearing any Celtic music without my heart feeling as though it were being crushed under a relentless weight. Over time, my love for the music has outshone my grief, but the music from Lord of the Dance still carries with it that pristine moment in time and, along with it, the regret that was soon to follow. My spirit falters still when I hear it.

So tonight will be interesting to say the least. I don't want to ruin the experience for Aunt Tudi, nor do I want to show Llew how much I still grieve over the Harpist. This will be an exercise in keeping my feelings to myself, needless to say. I'm just hoping I'm a good enough actress to do just that.

I didn't have to wait nearly as long at the school today as I have the other days. Today was the day I would find out whether or not I would have to take any placement tests. Because of my extensive English courses in both high school and college, I was fine there. Math was a different matter. They set me up for a math test to see if I'd need to take any algebra courses. I went into the testing room resigned to the fact that I was about to make a spectacle of myself. It turns out that I did better than I expected and actually did well enough to not have to take any math courses. ::puffs up:: Maybe I'm better at math than I thought I was. Or maybe I'm just a really good guesser. Either way, I was in the home stretch of registration. I was directed to the registration office where I signed in and began to wait. It took about an hour before I was called back. My "adviser" had the personality of wet towel. That said, registration when quickly and without incident, although he did ask me if I had cats because he noticed the scratch I got on my arm, courtesy of Aloysius. When I told him yes and how many, he looked at me like I was some sort of crazy cat lady and hurried me out of his cube. That's fine. At least now I have my class schedule and equipment requirements. I get to go back on Friday and mooch for money, aka talk to Financial Aid.

While I was waiting to be registered, I wrapped up "Sui Generis" with, if I may say so, a mighty fine segue into "Beautiful Pets." It still needs some tweaking here and there, but I'm well-pleased to finally have this story/chapter behind me. Cadmus' brief biography has been plaguing me for...oh....six years. It's about bloody time I got it on paper.

After I left the school, I zipped by Llew's place of employment and dropped off my computer so he could work on that Power Point project. The plan was that I'd pick the computer up when I went to see him at home this evening. After leaving the shop, I stopped at the vet's office to pick up some Interceptor for the dogs, then I went home and collected Aunt Tudi to take her to her eye doctor.

We got to Dr. Weeks a little early, so they went ahead and took Aunt Tudi on back. They dilated her eyes, which is always fun -- for me. I love dilated eyes. I think there's something fundamentally Elven about them. So I've spent a lot of time gazing into Aunt Tudi's eyeballs. She got a pretty good report. Her cataracts are a little foggier, but not too bad, and she still doesn't need prescription glasses. She's 62 and only needs drugstore reading glasses, and I'm 38 and have been wearing prescription lenses for two years. What's wrong with this picture?

After the doc, we ran by the grocery for some pop, milk, and cheese, because that's what we're living on at the moment. By the time we got home, both of us were so sick from the heat, Aunt Tudi passed out on the couch in front of a fan, and I horked up my lungs in the bathroom. I hate Summer. And I hate global warming. And I hate that shithead in Washington DC who says there's no such thing. Thanks to my getting sick from the heat, mine and Llew's festivities have been postponed until Thursday evening. He came back on his way home from work and gave me my computer and here I am.

At least now, I've cooled off and am no longer churned up from the heat. Blech. Tomorrow we're under another heat advisory. I may avoid the out of doors at all costs.

I have to cut it today. As I've said before, I'd rather be smoking it. But, since I have none to smoke and way too much to cut, I'll be mowing instead of toking. Life is unfair, yes it is, yes it is. Our sunset begins at 8:32 DST, so I'm going out at 7:30 to use the lawn tractor first. I'll be thirty minutes on that, doing Uncle Michael's back yard, the field, and my front yard. Then I'll get out the push mower and do the trimming of the front yard and all of the back yard. I should be finished up a little before 9 PM, if I don't stop to mop sweat or drink anything cool and refreshing.

Words are insufficient in expressing my hatred for Summer and all things related. It needs to go away. The Earth needs to be knocked off Her axis to where we're hardly exposed to the sun at all. Yeah, it'll mean certain death for us all, but at least we'll die cooler than this inferno.

The school thing wasn't a go today, so I'm having to split it up between tomorrow morning and Thursday morning. Ain't that grand? Bah! After I leave there tomorrow, I've got to swing by Llew's work so he can use my computer for a PowerPoint project. None of the equipment or computers they have at work have that capability, so he came to me. I'm also due to go visit Llew at home tomorrow after work. There may be some serious naughtiness to write about after tomorrow night so, if you want on my 'naughty filter,' let me know. If not, you're good.

I had a bowl of cheerios for supper. It's too hot to eat anything even remotely warm. The cheerios hit the spot in a way that I never imagined. I feel fulfilled and energised after having ingested approximately one cup of "doughnut seeds." If they'd been the Honey Nut Cheerios, I think I would have burst out into the yard to sing like Julie Andrews in the mountains of Austria. Yeah. That dramatic.

Aunt Tudi just thumbed her nose at me after I told her to shut her pie-hole, so I promptly flipped her a bird. Family togetherness and love: that's what it's all about.

Twenty-five minutes until I have to go out and be microwaved by the giant ball of fire in the sky.

I'm heading over to Llew's in about an hour. We'll probably go flying if the weather holds up.

Once I'm back home, I'm going to scan those photographs and pull up The Chalice. If I'm diligent, I'll be finishing "Sui Generis" today and can proceed with the rest of the 2nd draft uninterrupted. Cadmus has been sitting in a corner of my mind, his arms crossed and one foot tapping, waiting for me to muster the courage to begin writing again. I wonder if, once I'm finally really finished with The Chalice, Cadmus will feel fulfilled and justified, and he'll leave me alone?

I doubt it.

I must go back to the school tomorrow and I'll probably be there all day, so I want to focus on personal duties as much as I can today.

I was supposed to go over and see Llew today, but he ended up having to babysit until 5:30 this afternoon. He said we could still go flying, but I'm not keen on doing anything with the kid because.....well, because she's a kid. I don't do kids. I have contended in the past that the only way I'd intentionally have a child would be to ensure good meat for when the pickin's get slim after the Alpaca Lips. I am that wicked witch who fattens up children for baking in a pie. As for Llew, I'm going to see him tomorrow.

As is almost weekly tradition 'round here, I went out to cut the grass. It's so dry in our area right now that I blow red snot outta my nose for hours after I'm finished mowing. Maybe I need to wear one of those face masks, but I really don't want to do that. I already wear Terminator sunglasses to keep the light and crap out of my eyes. Combine that with a face mask and I'd end up looking like an extra on the Road Warrior set. It was hot out there. I was slimy by the time I was finished. I was a pale blue, slimy lump of misery who was blowing red mud out of her nose and throat. Attractive. Very attractive.

Aunt Tudi and I prepared an actual dinner to eat today. We had conflake crust fried boneless/skinless chicken, glow-in-the-dark green beans, and mashed potatoes. Afterward, Aunt Tudi had a slice of sugar free lemon pie and I had a nap.

An hour after that, I drug out the computer to stare at The Chalice for a while. I've hit another block. All I want to do is get past "Sui Generis," then the rest will be gravy. I'm so close, but I can't seem to get there. In frustration, I threw my hands up in the air and logged on to The INTARWEBS. Once there, I stared at the e-mails I need to answer and the journal in which I haven't written all day, while I watched the bad news about the Middle East. So I made a misanthropic post about that in misanthrope_inc, then commenced to staring at The Chalice again. Oh, and I got an email from moad_terran_hq in which he sent me some pictures of himself.

He is a hottie. It is proclaimed, yea and verily. As it is written, so shall it be done. Amen.

And that brings me up to this point in time. Now, I'm watching a Law & Order: CI that I've seen twice before and debating on whether or not to post another useless poll about nothing and everything. Honestly, I can't be sussed. All I want to do is finish up "Sui Generis," go to bed, and watch Harry Potter movies until I fall asleep.

Tomorrow is an early day. After being delayed last week, I'm heading out to Greenville Tech to take my placement tests and enroll for the Autumn semester. After that, I'm hoping I can go on to the financial aid office and let them see my cupped hand of blatant begging. Gimme money pleez. I R POOOOR. I spent all my money in England, so pity me! All I want to do is care for the animals and hit humans with a big stick, so please let me come to school for free. Better yet, pay me to come to school so I won't have to work whilst getting an education.

It would be nice to be a slacker student. It'd give me time to get back into the groove of school life. I've got twenty years of rust to scrape off my edumacation skillz.

I was supposed to go spend some time with Llew today after he was finished babysitting Destiny. Initially, it was to be around 5 PM. I called shortly beforehand to discover that Melanie wouldn't be home until 5:30, so I told Llew I'd see him then. I got to the house around 5:35 and Melanie was there, but she told me that Llew and Destiny were both crashed out asleep. I went into Llew's bedroom to see the sleeping beauties snoring away, so I left a note to let Llew know I'd been there. After bidding Melanie adieu, I left, went to the drug store and the grocery (for popsicles and hotdogs), and then I came back home. I guess I'll see Llew Tuesday, if all pans out okay.

One thing's for certain: Llew's gonna have a helluva time sleeping tonight after having two naps today. He's gonna feel like bantha poodoo at work tomorrow. But I think he has the same affliction as I. We're both inclined to sleep during the day and become very much awake at night. It's the Night Owl Syndrome, methinks. Llew will get up early, but is inclined to nap during the day on weekends. Me? I'll go to bed early, get up late, and still feel like shit until the sun goes down. Unfortunately, we've been cloudless for many days now, so all I see when I look or go outside is the sun. The hot, burning, sizzling, steaming, unmerciful sun.

Please take me back to England where there are clouds and more forgiving temperatures (at least most of the time).

Aunt Tudi is in the kitchen making up hotdogs. We're having them with cole slaw on top this time, which is my favourite way. She'll probably devour two or three. I'm having one. Afterward, Aunt Tudi will enjoy a sugar free popsicle for dessert and I shall have a scoop of Life Savers Wild Berry Sherbet. It's a frozen party in your mouth. Other than it being hotter than a whore working overtime, life is pretty damned skippy.

All of a sudden I'm so sleepy, I can't stand myself. Time is crawling. So I bought myself a Mountain Dew and am going to drink it with extreme prejudice. May the Mighties have mercy on the souls of those around me.

I've downloaded Semagic here 'cos it's easier to access than the 'Net is. Still not comfy with I-net access. It's only my second day.

So far this day has gone well. I've picked up speed and am now quite comfy with the phone.

I went to Dr. Jaworski's about my hubcap. She drew a syringe full of fluid off it, then injected it and gave me pain pills, all the while eyeballing the knee and tsk'ing, saying that she doubted I'd last long with it. Gads. My leg is going to fall off.

Afterwards, Aunt Tudi and I went to see Diane at the physical therapy center. She's supposed to be there for a week to six, depending on how well she does with her hip transplant. So far, she's doing great, considering she's only 4 days out of surgery.

We went and paid some bills, ran a couple of errands, and I picked up my meds. I also found a pair of tights that I'm gonna wear with my skirt on THE DAY. Yes, I'm wearing a skirt. A black skirt with a black blouse and black tights and some black shoes. I need to find my shoes! AIEEEE! We got home around 6 and Aunt Tudi called Janice to confirm that she was still gonna take us to the airport. No, she's not. Some emergency sprang up with Johnna and they will all be indisposed at the time Aunt Tudi and I need to be at the airport. I freaked out until Johnna had the idea that we drive to the airport and, after their previous engagement, Johnna and Janice and go pick up the car so I won't have to pay $10 a day for parking. Whew! Johnna is one smart cookie.

On my way over to see Llew, he called to tell me that he has the Slobovian Stomach Flu, not to come. He left the DVDs on the front porch and, when I picked them up, we hugged from afar. I told him I'd make it up to him when I got home and he was feeling healthier. This is what happens when you live with a walking petri dish (AKA a young child).

Coming back home, I called the Mother Unit to wish her a happy birthday. She's treating herself to ringside seats at a WWE Smackdown match. Yes, my mother is as bizarre as they come. I also finally got in touch with Timothy and we've made tentative plans to get together after I get back from Blighty, so I can see his music room. He seems quite proud of it.

Now I'm home and about three quarters of the way packed. No longer do I feel numb; rather, I am in full panic mode, hoping I don't forget anything or screw anything up.

All the beasties are safe and sound at Dr. Patch's. The Outdoor Pride has 60 pounds of kibble on which to subsist, and Johnna is going to fill their pans and give them fresh water daily. Aunt Tudi's back if doing better, and I have in my paws 5 ativan for taking off and landing maneuvers in addition to 20 hydrocodone for my hubcap, which should hopefully soon be a much better kneecap.

Tomorrow, I need to mail an eBay package, set the tape for LOST for this week and next, call some people, and write a couple of emails. I think that's it. We have to be at the airport by 2:30, just to be on the safe side. It's gonna be a long trip, but worth it.

Friday: Stonehenge and a bit of Wales (I thought you'd want to say you'd been there. Could substitute Glastonbury if you'd rather). Steve's at night, and probably his cooking (yum).

Saturday (with Steve and his daughter): Avebury, Silbury Hill, West Kennet Long Barrow, Wayland's Smithy, and the Uffington White Horse and Dragon Hill. (Not as ambitious as it sounds, but may still need to be cut.) Country pub for supper.

Sunday: Bath, home to Brighton.

Monday: London -- Buck Palace and a few others, Brit Museum if you like, Stevie's for Bed Viewing, if you like (all being well), Ripper tour. Return to Brighton

Tuesday: Party party

Wednesday: Up to you -- more of Brighton, more of Sussex, Dover/Canterbury -- depending on your energy and interest. May have Graham with us first thing, he's considering staying over. (I doubt anybody else will, but who knows . . .)

The one thing about mine and Llew's relationship of which I'm quite proud is that we don't take advantage of each other. Sure, we've hurt each other on quite a few occasions, and he scared the living shit out of me last year with his styooooopid disappearing act, but we've never taken the other for any sort of ride. When he was wallowing in his massive inheritance, I was the only one who didn't have my hand out, wanting money I would never repay. When I got my severance, he never once asked me for any fundage.

A couple of weeks ago, Llew's truck died. It was an old truck, so old that parts can't be found for it. So Llew was faced with having to purchase a new vehicle. His boss Gretchen lent him her 10-passenger van for the interim, but that godawful thing was sucking gas like nobody's business. After he vented much frustration at having no help in finding a car, I told him again that I would help him by taking him around to the lots. He took me up on it today. On the way to a lot he'd heard about, Llew was telling me how much he appreciated my help. I told him it was the least I could do after he helped me get a new car when I had my unfortunate car accident. It's what you do for people you care about.

So we made it to the lot and looked at every car there. We finally happened upon a sweet Ford Taurus station wagon, which was perfect for Llew's needs (getting to work, hauling off garbage, and transporting RC planes). The price was right, as was the mileage and age. So I hung out with him until he made the deal with the car salesmen, and then we came back home, both of us very happy campers.

Whilst zipping over to Diane's yesterday afternoon, I passed Llew's daughter standing outside her boyfriend's car on the side of the road with several people including her child. Behind the car was a cop car, lights flashing. I didn't stop because it wasn't my "place" to stop. Besides, my concern for Melanie is beyond zero. My curiosity about the situation is driving me mad, though, because I haven't heard from Llew since I talked with him yesterday morning and, when I saw Melanie making her debut on COPS, he was just about to leave work. Something is up. I called Llew last night and got no answer. This morning, I called him and no answer. I left him a message to call me back, but I've not heard from him yet. I called him again a few minutes ago. Still, no answer. So it can't be good.

I was supposed to go see him later on today, but I guess that's not gonna happen now. The suspense is killing me.

The title given by clumsycake to Aunt Tudi, Diane, clumsycake, and myself fits us perfectly methinks. For years now, Aunt Tudi, clumsycake, and I have been making treks to Asheville and enjoying the hell out of it. This time, we're popping Diane's Asheville cherry and lo! it shall be good.

I'm currently making a mix CD of some very eclectic material: XTC, Alabama 3, The Polecats, Madonna, Dave Matthews, the Klezmer Conservatory Band, Maura O'Connell, Patrick Hernandez, Journey, Oasis, Concrete Blonde, VAST, Siouxsee & the Banshees, and Underworld, among other artists before I'm finished. If everyone's asses aren't happy by the time we get to Asheville, then my passengers won't be alive. Just to be sure, though, I'm taking along the Rumpshaker mix CD that blueskywonder sent to me. I won't be playing any Shriekback tomorrow, because no one in my vicinity is much of a fan of the band. They're all idiots, but they're my friends and family, so what can I do? We hit the road at 8 AM sharp

I made it to Garners today to get the glucosamine chondroiten that Dr. Jawarski wants me to start taking for my 50-year-old knee. Also picked up a total body cleanse kit which I shall be starting tomorrow night. I need to rid myself of toxins and other substances, so this should do the trick.

After that I went to see Llew for a little while. It was a nice visit and I can tell that he's thrilled I've restored a modicum of my libido. I think I'm kind of pleased myself.

Oh, and I weighed today. When I left The Pit, I gained 9 pounds. I've been slowly working on re-losing that and I have, plus two more pounds. That makes me 191 with a loss of 149 pounds. I want to lose at least 20 more pounds before going to England. If I reach 170 by April, it will be the first time I was that light since I was a kid. So yay and yahoo.

The visit with Llew was pleasant. We went flying, this time with the Queen Bee. All photos can be found here for interested parties.

I've found some flights to England in late April that are $625. I know the rates will change closer to time, but I'm wanting to get a decent idea of what fares I'm looking at. The flight is Delta (which I like) nonstop from Atlanta to Gatwick. Not too bad. I'm hoping that, by mid-February, the rates will be even better. I was looking mainly at 25 April through 3 May. This would allow me to spend Bealtainne on the Holy Isle which, for me, would literally be a dream come true, a personal Hajj if you will.

I know it'd probably be ridiculously crowded at this time, but I'd really love to go to Stonehenge on Bealtainne. That'd just be fan-fucking-tastic.

I got up relatively early today simply because I didn't sleep last night at all. Goddess bless insomnia!

I went to the PO, then had to go back to the PO because of a screw up, I'm not sure on whose part, the USPS or mine. Probably mine, but the USPS is definitely not out of the running here.

Then I took Aunt Tudi and went to Ingles for groceries. Whilst there, we picked up a gigantic ape to put in the back seat of the car. It's a large black gorilla (my dreams) and big enough to wear the seat belt. Years ago, I kept a stuffed orangutan in the back seat of the car until he basically fell apart from exposure.

While at Ingles, I got a call from mekkasimian and we set up a time for me to meet him at GSP and take him back to the new abode. aunt_tudi wanted to ride with me 'cos she just loves road trips and I don't think she's ever been to Clemson, so this will be an adventure for her. I won't be putting Fred (my new ape) in the car until after I take mekkasimian home 'cos I think that'd just be tacky of me to do that, since he's a biomechanical ape and all. But I'll be taking pictures of Fred once he's belted in and ready to roll.

I'll be going to see Llew here in about 25 minutes. He starts babysitting at 4, so I won't be staying very long. After that, I'm hoping to come home and work more on my video database.

The visit with Llew was very cool, very cool indeed. I left in time enough to get home for LOST, which was simply awesome, as always.

I then went to the bedroom to put my cell phone on the side table and what should I find but my wee Motley on my bed right beside Shmoop. That's the perfect ending to a near perfect day, I'd say ~ the final breakthrough for my feline sister-friends. They've not slept together before tonight. I'm well-pleased.

I'll be posting some recent pics of Motley and her sister, as well as Smidge and Shmoop. Readers are, I'm sure, unable to sit still from the excitement and anticipation.

I'm off to rub Aunt Tudi's back and then head for bed for reading time.

Diane came over to watch some LOST with me. She'd only seen part of a show in the first season and was eager to see what it was all about. There's nothing quite as wonderful as popping the cherry of a LOST virgin. If she said "Jesus Christ!" once, she said it about a dozen times, and that was only watching the first four episodes. She went home with the season 1 DVD as well as Battlestar Galactica season 1 and From Hell.

For some odd reason, Todd sent me a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. I'll be calling him tonight to thank him for it and discover his motive behind it. I don't think he's ever sent be booze before. Strange. Also got a card from sri3m and one from razzle. How sweet! Thanks to thee! :)

In about an hour, I'll be heading to visit Llew, then home to pick up Aunt Tudi for a trip to the grocery store. We're gonna tape LOST and go on to the store, then watch it when we get back home.

Earlier today I went to spend some time with Llew. We looked at pictures of rc planes and the latest photo compositions of my beastie pals. He felt puny and I, having my Moon, felt and feel like warmed over yak genitals, so we cuddled and yapped more than anything else. He hadn't seen my bruised face and was rather alarmed by its appearance. Joking, Llew made the comment that he'd never have to beat me, if he was that kind of man, 'cos I come pre-beaten. Yeah right! I guess so.

I think that Billy Ray Cyrus should make a TV country music version of Brokeback Mountain about a mullet-wearing country singer who's seen his better day hooking up with a cowpoke from Oklahoma. It could be called Achy-Breakyback Mountain.

On the agenda tomorrow:

Take Motley for her shots and first healthy kitten check-up. While there, set up grooming appointments for the dog-dogs and have the dudettes make note that both Riley and Chester need their Bordatella shots whilst getting their arses scrubbed.

Call Fidelity and tell them to send me my money dammit, now now now, dammit now!

Run about the front yard praying for some actual fucking Winter!

Yeah, we're having 0 Winter here in Da Souf and that sucks. If we don't get some sufficiently cold weather before Spring hits, the mosquitoes are going to be large enough to throw saddles on and ride about playing Joust, like in that old video game with the ostriches. It's not gonna be pretty. We were pretty much overrun this past year with bugaboos of all sorts because we didn't have a decent Winter last year. If it happens again, we're gonna be featured on one of Sci-Fi's big mutant animal Saturdays. I hate the South when it comes to the weather. I want snow. Lots and lots of snow. Feet of it. A blizzard. A total white-out. That's what I want. I want subzero temperatures for days on end, killing off the sleeping larvae or eggs or whatever they are so that I can actually go outside in the Summer without having pints of blood sucked out of me within 5 minutes.

It's taken me several hours to write this post because I haven't been able to keep my mind on what I was doing. I'm incredibly bored and apathetic with everything at the mo. It's not anything but my Moon. Ho-hum.

Thanks to my Moon, I've been in bed for the majority of the day eating Imitrex like Pez and using Riley's butt for a pillow. I rescheduled with Llew for tomorrow when we might actually get some flying in and have logged onto the Internet now to send the doc Aunt Tudi's blood glucose levels and hunt for sexual predators in Duncan. No, I'm not looking for a date. It's for Aunt Tudi 'cos she's paranoid n'shit.

I had a nightmare this morning. I dreamt that I went to Wal-Mart for some supplies as Aunt Tudi was in the hospital. I picked her up several DVDs whilst there, then went out to my car, which was Johnna's car that I had recently purchased from her. Before I started the car, this dude got in the passenger's side and started sprinkling lighter fluid all over the car seat. I told him to stop it and began wrestling with him, trying to get him out of the car. His first attempt at igniting the fluid with a match didn't work, but it worked the second time and I jumped out of the car cursing at the man. He just smiled and continued his silence until I pulled out my camera. "I'm taking a picture of you, asshole, so the cops will know who to look for!" His smile faltered and he told me to hand over the camera. I told him no and he started chasing me as I ran back into Wal-Mart, snapping pictures behind me. I was begging for help and some associates took me to a security room. Shortly, two detectives came in to question me about the incident. I told how into Law & Order I was and asked to which cop on the shows did they relate. One said Brisco, the other said Goren. I showed the pictures and they asked me to email them to the police station and gave me the email address. They told me that my car wasn't the only one that had been torched, that the dude had burned several cars in a line in the parking lot. Freaky. Later, I was in a security room at the mall of all places, talking to two fellas about something that seemed quite unrelated. When I opened the door to the outside, there the firebug was. The dudes grabbed hold of him and held him while I called the detectives to come pick him up. And I took more pictures of him just to rub it in that he'd been caught.

Sci-Fi is showing disaster flicks today. It seems like all they ever show on Saturdays are disaster flicks or giant bug/mutant animal flicks. I want an Outer Space Saturday or a High Fantasy Friday. The killer beasts and sundering earth motif has gotta freakin' go.

In a break from regular Friday tradition, I'm posting some quizzes. I have a right since my head hurts.

On that line of thought, I am feeling the tremours of a crush on Mr. Eko. It could just be raw, humid lust.... but it may also be that inspirational feeling and may very well breed some nice fanfics if allowed to develop!

I need a Mr. Eko icon now, preferably using a screen cap of when he licks the tip of that knife. That was hot as hell.Got back from Llew's at 8:45. We had an interesting chat while I was over there. It's now officially been a year since he jumped headlong onto my People Who Need to Be Maimed because They Fucked around with Tin's Feelings and Made Her Cry against Her Will list. He realises that I haven't quite gotten past that. Maybe I will someday. Maybe I won't. Either way, Llew and I have created a history with one another. There's no denying that I love him and will always do so. He feels the same about me. You can't help but love someone who's been in your life in an affectionate capacity for almost five years. But love can be transformed from one incarnation to another, as everyone knows. Llew acknowledged that, for months, we've been more like friends with benefits than persons engaged in a love affair. I did not argue with his summation, but I would have been lying if I had. It doesn't change the fact that I still love him and I know he loves me. I'm cool with that for now.I have shaved....my.....legs! This is a monumental day in my life. I'll have another similar day sometime before Summer. I am Earth Woman and protest depilatory tactics! Let me run free and hairy, So Say We All!

At least, now, Dr. Yost won't have to make a part down my thigh and shin bone just to see a little bit of flesh on my kneecap. When you can corn row the hair on your legs, as a Western Woman, you are obligated to take certain measures. I guess that means I'm from the East 'cos I could don a pair of hooves and run around nekkid, and people would think I'm Pan. (IO IO PAN!)In answer to green_goblin70, I really don't know. I think you kinda blew it the first go 'round. You both wanted different things and, at that time, neither of you were willing to compromise. So.... I'd just forget about it.Aunt Tudi is pitching a special kind of hissy for us to go to the flea market on Sunday to sell. If we do go, we'll be at the White Horse Road market because I hate TABS and we don't do very well there. We've accrued so much stuff, a lot of it courtesy of the Father Unit, that our house looks like we're in the process of either packing or unpacking. It's driving me crazy now too, and that's saying a lot 'cos I can tolerate clutter like nobody's business. My room in the castle would be the mad old wizard's chamber piled high with books and dust, with mucho paperwork strewn about the cobble floor. So, anyway, Aunt Tudi wants to get rid of a bunch of this stuff and I think I've put her off for as long as I can. She's been wanting to do this since June and I've always had a brilliant reason why we couldn't go. I've run out of reasons and she's run out of patience.

I can't stand the flea market, any flea market (or car boot for you lovely folks of the British persuasion....I was educated in Brit slang by the wonderful Miss _willowmyst. Our flea markets are always drowned in the cacophonous miasma of Ranchero music, Country and Country Gospel, and the occasional dash of Southern Rock (perhaps a pinch of Lynyrd Skynrd or maybe even some Allman Brothers). Everyone is walking around sucking on nasty, slimy boiled peanuts or chewing on tuhbackee. They approach our table and paw everything on it without really buying anything, or they'll try to "Jew me down" (actual words said to me in jest by some overall-wearing, snuff-sucking, toothless, googly-eyed hick) so they can take it over to their table and sell it for twice as much. I HATE the flea market. If I can't find a way out of it, Aunt Tudi and I will be at the flea market Sunday morning. I'll take the laptop along with me in order to document the horrors of my environment, right down to the beer can windchimes.

The only occult shop that I know of in the area is just a hop and skip from the flea market, so I may spend a bit of my time at The Dragon's Treasure poking around to see what's new. I haven't been over there in almost two years! I could use some more candles and maybe even some nice incense. I'd also like to catch up on what decent books are out there now. I may even pick up a copy of the Witches' Almanac as I haven't gotten one in ages and I'd like to see where the larger community's collective mind is at now. Oh, and I'd like to check the message board and try to deduce what groups are still active in the area, just for curiosity's sake.

Sometimes though.....I have that flicker of desire to partake in a group ritual. Then I think of all the New Age Fluffy Bunnies, rebellious teenage Christians playing at Witchery, and general all-round psychos who comprise the majority of the Pagan community out there (that I know of, that is. I could be wrong here and I'd love to be!) and I decide to remain solitary so as to better nurture my Inner Sith and my Alpaca Liptic vision. On certain levels, I know I'm being selfish here because I'd rather be on my own and do as I please in my own way than work in a group who's motivations, skills, or inspirations seem inferior to me. I freely admit that, often, I can be a terrible religion snob. I once observed to some fellow Wiccans that I sometimes worried that I was a Fundamentalist Pagan. Things have to be done my way or I'm unsatisfied. That's not behaviour that benefits others. It's best I keep it to myself. My Way is just as flawed as anyone else's, I've come to understand. But it works for me.They're having a news story about the billboard I took a pic of the other day. The reporter stated that local gays and lesbians are not happy with the message the ministry is trying to communicate. Well, big fucking woo! As long as any of us do nothing but whine and bitch about our country being sucked into that gigantic black hole of stupidity, nothing will change. And I'm including myself in all this. I could do more to try to stop our souped-up handbasket in which we are all travelling. The "executive director" of Truth Ministry just said that homosexuality is much like drug addiction or alcoholism and that, with the correct therapy and with accepting Christ in your heart, you can overcome your homosexuality and be healed of its dastardly effects. What the fuck ever. Offended people should take up sticks and other weapons and take to the streets. The more I see the passive-aggressive behaviour of the people in power and the tactics they use to nurture hate and intolerance, the more I want to bust heads open like ripe melons. I'm tired of being a ninny and I'm tired of others being ninnies. Time to rumble.I've run out of things to bitch about. This post is now over.

This really has nothing to do with birds or farmers. It is, instead, a random post with no strong subject to merit it being made the subject line.

First off, I would like to state for the record that I am both terrified of and appalled with the Burger King King. He's pretty much the creepiest thing on TV now, only because the scary Six Flags dude isn't currently in rotation, and I want him to go away.

The owl icon I'm using is from a picture of an owl that lives in the Wild Animal Park, which is a free range animal sanctuary in cahoots with the San Diego zoo. The Mother Unit took that picture and it's completely untouched. I just love how the black pupils turned out to be red. It is a great horned owl and one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever had the honour of encountering. But I'm a sucker for owls, any kind of owl. I think that's the one thing that sealed a bond between the Grandmother Unit and me. We barely knew each other when we were reunited, but the one thing we had in common was an uncanny adoration of owls. When she passed away, the Mother Unit passed her owl collection on to me.

My loose modem connection is swiftly driving me quite mad. I really need to get the fucker fixed before I snap and scamper through the neighbourhood offing yokels with an air rifle. What happened a few weeks ago is Aunt Tudi got her foot caught in my phone cord and jerked it really hard. Thankfully, she didn't fall or hurt herself, but she did a number on my computer. It's been a nightmare ever since and it's getting worse with every passing day. Must.Get.It.Fixed..... Ideally what I'd like to do is get the new lappie, transfer all my stuff over to the new one, wipe this one clean, then get it repaired without any of my personal stuff being on it. Then it'd be like new for Aunt Tudi to use and drive herself like a herd of wombats into the 21st Century.

I'm supposed to go see Llew around 7 tonight, but I've already told him I have to leave by 8:45 to be home in time enough for LOST. Since I've had to go out every day this week so far, I'm really not keen on going anywhere. But a promise is a promise. I just don't feel like doing anything but vegging online and giving the animals and Aunt Tudi the hairy eyeball.

After Judge Judy, I've got to shave my legs, which is a monumental task since I am Sasquatch. I need to make the legs at least marginally decent-looking for the doctor tomorrow, so he won't have to dip his fingers in an inch of fur just to get to my kneecap. I have a 10:15 appointment tomorrow morning for Dr. Yost to hopefully give my left knee an injection. He may not do stuff like that, though, and will have to refer me to an orthopaedic doctor. I had a doc for that, but he stopped taking my insurance so..... there you go.

Speaking of insurance, I need to start paying for my Cobra this month. I've decided to do the 12 month extension just in case one of my eyeballs falls out or something equally as gruesome. Perhaps by next year I'll have insurance with a new job working with animals whilst going to school.

Here is where I get to really complain: I miss having a crush on someone. Not a particular person, mind, just the crush itself. The last really strong crush was on Darth Maul. Such obsessions are very inspiring and uplifting for me. I feel kind of empty when I'm not swept along by uncontrollable feelings which I can explore and expand. No one really captures my fancy, though, so I just drift aimlessly wishing for that powerful feeling to return. I hate that.

I've been listening to Arabic and Romany music for a good part of the day. There's something in that music that makes my blood flow just a little faster and freer through my veins. Klezmer does the same thing. Any music from the near East inspires me to a greatest of which I cannot conceive; therefore, I just listen and let my heartbeat pound in time.

Aunt Tudi went back to the doc today. She says Aunt Tudi is doing really well with her diabetes. She also said that Aunt Tudi's pharmacist is insane for thinking anything has changed on her insurance. Our last step to prove the old guy wrong is for Aunt Tudi to either contact a case worker or go down to the headquarters and talk to someone face to face. We'll be doing that tomorrow. We're gonna have to get something written, I'm afraid, 'cos the pharmacist is still arguing with Aunt Tudi about her coverage. I'm fighting the urge to pull him up by his collar and say, "Listen here, Captain Kangaroo! You're gonna fill my mother's prescriptions, you're gonna do it now, and you're gonna do it with a fucking smile on that pie face of yours, got me?" He looks like Captain Kangaroo, which makes me like him even less.

Afterward, we toodled down to the Beacon to take a picture of the billboard that's currently on display down there. It's horrific.

I'm just disgusted with this area. mekkasimian be aware! You're moving into the heart and soul of Jesusland! Even though we Pagans try to call it the Girdle of the Goddess, Dominionists are winning out on making this area the Buckle of the Bible Belt. May the Mighties have mercy and yours and Mrs. Simian's souls!

On a lighter note, Ingles' brand Laura Lynn is advertising herself as a homo gal.

I snagged a couple of pics last night while over at Llew's. His granddaughter is really growing. She'll be six next month. She's not nearly as obnoxious as she was a couple of years ago. Let it be known here that I usually find most kids obnoxious, so it's nothing against Destiny. Another kid who's not as obnoxious as before is my pseudo niece Angel. She's become very affectionate and not as whiny as before. Anyway, onto the Llew pics.

We've changed a little bit. It's hard to believe that we've been together five years this coming September. Our worst year was 2005. Our best was 2002, I'd say. The jury is out on 2006. We're working on it. If I were a "normal" woman, I would have jumped his ass yesterday. First he asked me I'd been drawing on myself and pointed to a line on my face. I checked in the mirror and it's a wrinkle! But it looks like a very light pencil park. Later on we were outside and Llew said, "I just found the prettiest white hair in your head! Oh look here are a few more!" Neither statements bothered me. I don't care about growing old and I think I've earned a wrinkle and a white hair or two. Hell, I'm 38. It's bound to happen sooner or later. So I didn't read Llew the riot act 'cos he was just being honest and at least he notices things about me. Better than nuttin'.We went by Dr. Patch's to drop off newspapers and set up an appointment for Motley to get her shot. She's growing like a weed and has overcome her poor health, so it's time for her boosters. When I take her for her shots, I'm then going to set up her spaying appointment. I'm figuring she'll be due sometime in April, if not a little sooner. If I can get any pictures of her with her eyes open, I'll post 'em pronto.

I also got some ear wash for Riley, who is still spazzing with itchy ears. There's no sign of ear mites, so I'm thinking the wash may do the trick just right.

The rest of the night is mine. I intend to do what I do best: NOTHING. And then I'm going to bed and watching BSG til I pass out. It's one of my favourite pastimes!

I was supposed to go hang out with Llew today and take some picture of his Queen Bee in flight, but it's too cold and windy, so we've rescheduled for tomorrow at 1:30 PM sharp.

Battlestar Galactica. Ohmyfuckingawd. I'm not gonna say anything about it so as not to spoil anyone. Just.....OHMYFUCKINGAWD! Okay, I'll say one thing, but it's not really spoilerish. If that exchange between Starbuck and Admiral Cain doesn't inspire some heinous fanfic, then I no longer know or am able to identify ships. Whoa nelly.

Thanks to Aunt Tudi and the Father Unit, I have become a total Law & Order nut. I don't feel right if Law & Order isn't on the telly, especially when I'm online. The habit formed rather quickly and now I'm stuck. Law & Order: SVU is my favourite, then CI. I desperately want to shag Vincent D'Onofrio. And I love Christopher Meloni, too, but I prefer him as a savage criminal behind bars, ravishing every man who comes his way. Come to think of it, the only thing that would get me to join up to Netflix is the opportunity to watch Oz from start to finish. That would rock my world.

Pineapple yoghurt is Manna from Heaven. When the Jews left Egypt for the Promised Land, God sent them globs of pineapple yoghurt. This is a Holy Mystery, so pay attention.

Now that I have that out of the way, it's MEME TIME! This was stolen from every-damned-body.

Reply to this post, and I'll tell you *at least* one reason why I like you. Then put this in your own journal, and spread the love.